


Why We Fall

by ktfranceebee



Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:32:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktfranceebee/pseuds/ktfranceebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt reveals to Dave that he’s always had a fantasy of having sex with someone dressed as Batman. Kurt has no idea that it is Dave who is about to make this dream of his become a reality. But how does Kurt react when he discovers who the man is behind the mask?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lordofthepringles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordofthepringles/gifts).



It was half past six on a Friday night and Dave had only been home long enough to remove his grey suit jacket and kick his shoes off on the mat in the foyer before he heard the sharp and, if he didn’t know any better, urgent knock on the door behind him. Though he had upgraded from his studio apartment in the Bronx to his more functional two bedroom apartment in Manhattan (being closer to his office building and having ceiling fans that _actually_ worked) not long after his last promotion two years ago, he did not know anyone in the building well enough to give someone a reason to be knocking on his door and around dinner time, no less. He didn’t have a lot of time to socialize with the tenants on his floor—especially now that he was working longer hours, which meant less time at home and more time in his office. Much of his time was spent answering phone calls and making appointments with a number of notable sport’s figures in the business to negotiate lucrative contracts between coaches and prospective, in-demand NFL material—all young, fit, and fresh out of college. He was still, of course, continuing to work his way up so he could eventually handle the affairs of some of the biggest names in football the world has seen. He was living his dream.

But making his dreams become a reality didn’t mean that he didn’t have time to socialize at all. His immediate circle of friends consisted of a handful of coworkers and some buddies from college. The friends he made during high school were practically nonexistent since being forcibly outed in the middle of his senior year and thanks to the great lengths he went to hide who he was up until that point.

There was, however, a few, and not to mention surprising, exceptions. One particular person came to mind; although, this would be an understatement as he usually _was_ on his mind. He had become friends with this person in the strangest of coincidences and was the only person who would show up at his apartment without so much as a heads up, and the six, consecutive raps on the door foretold of the identity of his company.

When he entered his apartment just seconds before, he had every intention—every _hope_ —of collapsing on the couch with a cold pumpkin ale to watch shitty reality T.V. shows until he passed out as just one way to recuperate from his hectic week at work. So the fact that he would turn around on the spot and expectantly wrench open the door, being quite certain of who was on the other side, spoke volumes as to just how much that said person meant to him.

* * *

 

Kurt wasn’t sure how he managed to knock on the apartment door while carrying the teetering stack of slim, plastic, rectangular cases without dropping them, let alone walk three blocks to the building from his own apartment all the while receiving questioning, if not slightly judgmental, looks from the passersby. He had grown acclimated to the strange looks afforded to him while pounding the pavement of the concrete jungle that was New York City over the years. Being a costume designer for Broadway meant scouring the fabric shops in the city, and on a tight schedule, for that perfect shade of rich byzantium when all his assistants could find was a dull eggplant, and carting said rolls of fabric back to _Hummel Studio_ , LLC. At any other time, he was either too preoccupied to notice the stares or was in too much of a good mood to care.  
  
This time was different.  
  
A part of him wanted to tell them off, to give them the finger as he passed had his hands not been full, but another part of him only wished to slink down into one of the many dank and disgusting street gutters lining the curbs; away from the looks and, even more so, away from the people who, in the end, were only out to hurt him.  
  
Who were they to judge him and his obviously disheveled appearance, with his tear-stained face and mottled-crimson cheeks? None of them knew what he was going through, he gathered. None of them understood what it was like to be betrayed not once, not even twice, but three times and by the people he trusted most; or, rather, those he should have been able to.  
  
Kurt sniffed, trying his best to avoid another onset of waterworks as he squished the stack of boxes between his chin and the palm of his hand to prevent them from falling. Nothing said _“I’m done with this piece of shit”_ more than a movie marathon and fattening food with his best friend, so, with his free hand, he knocked on the door and desperately hoped that the man was already home.

* * *

  
  
While Dave easily figured out that it was Kurt by his knock alone, he hadn’t prepared himself for _this_ Kurt that stood before him. Looking through the peephole before opening the door would have helped ward off some of the shock he experienced when he was met with the upsetting sight. Dave had only a second to take in his friend’s appearance before Kurt swept gracefully past him and into the room before Dave could say a word. His defined chin was held high over a stack of—‘ _What was that?’_ —DVDs...? He frowned as he slowly shut the door behind him with his eyes never leaving Kurt's form. Kurt’s back was rigid as he strode stoically across the room, completely cognizant of what he was doing and where he was going, indicative of just how often he came over his apartment.  
  
“What… The _fuck_? _”_ Dave finally broke his silence by voicing his concern and not over Kurt’s presence and how easily he was able to “make himself at home”, but the state he was in. He moved in towards the living room where Kurt set the stack of DVDs on top of the coffee table. Dave immediately felt a sense of foreboding. The two of them had plenty of movie nights, though usually on Saturdays and more frequently during their college days. Depending on who was hosting the movie night, the "guest" would usually choose from the "host's" collection. The fact that, as he drew closer to Kurt who was flipping through what looked like a rather substantial chunk of an entire shelf of DVDs, they were all superhero movies revealed that Kurt was plagued with a very specific problem; something that could only be solved by ogling muscled-men in spandex.  
  
“I hope you didn’t have anything planned,” Kurt spoke up for the first time without so much as looking at Dave. Dave held his hands out at his sides, palms aimed towards Kurt in silent, concerned questioning as Kurt methodically sorted through the DVDs like he was following some sort of system known only to him. His voice had a slight waver and seemed an even higher pitch than normal, but it was restrained—like Kurt was doing all he could to maintain his composure.  
  
“I was just in the neighborhood...Thought we could watch a movie.”  
  
“Or twenty?” Dave tacked on to the end of Kurt’s frighteningly nonchalant statement with a scoff, though he knew perfectly well that, were Kurt to ask, he would stow away any plans he had that weekend to watch each and every one of those movies if it meant being able to cheer him up.  
  
Dave cleared his throat as he placed one hand on his hip as the other raked through his hair, messing up the part at the side. He wished he knew what was wrong; what he could do to help.  
  
"Did you seriously take a cab with all of these?” He attempted to joke, picking up “ _The Avengers 2"_ off the top of one of the piles, and then he realized Kurt was sorting the DVDs according to comic: One consisting of _Marvel_ adaptations and the other _DC._  
  
"No..." Kurt murmured and, in both a trembling and without looking at him, added, "I walked."  
  
Dave's lips parted empathetically as he tilted his head slightly to get a glimpse of Kurt's face. There was only one other time he could recall Kurt looking such a mess, with the whites of his eyes an angry pink and shimmering with restrained emotion. The last time Dave saw him like this—and it had been _years_ —was for selfless reasons. The tears had been for _him_. Kurt had been there for him at a time when he didn't have anybody and, since then, Dave had promised himself that he would do the same for Kurt whenever the occasion called for it. And while Kurt would remind Dave numerous times that he wasn't indebted to him, Dave would simply state something along the lines of _“What are friends for?"_ and reach out and squeeze his friend's hand as he recalled the point in time where the same soft hand slid across the downy hospital sheet and grasped his. Kurt hadn't simply guided him out of the hopelessness and gloom of his former life. No... He yanked him out of it.  
  
"Kurt..." Dave murmured gently. He laid his hand on the other man's shoulder and, had they not been friends for so many years, Dave would have thought he had done something terribly wrong. It was as though he was able to witness Kurt's precariously built facade crumble, frame by frame. Kurt’s bottom lip wobbled much like a child who had scraped his knee or lost his favorite toy, rather than a successful 27-year-old man in charge of his own costume design business. His composure slipped like an avalanche of snow on the face of a mountain; his normally bright and cheery face (though it was anything _but_ cheery since he knocked on the door) contorted in pain and despair. For a moment it seemed as though Kurt was going to cover his face with his trembling hands, or else wipe away the tears, but then, as if changing his mind halfway through the action, he was closing the minute distance between the two of them and forcing the breath out of Dave from the sheer strength of the arms circling around his torso, fast and hard. Dave froze momentarily. Whether it was from the anguished grip of the hands desperately clutching the back of his shirt like it was the only thing that kept him from falling to the ground in a heap or the visible shaking of Kurt’s own shoulders, he couldn't be sure. Dave let out a wavering sigh as he let his hands flatten over the man’s back, one hand soothingly running over a shoulder as the other almost instinctively trailed up his spine before stopping abruptly just at the collar of the royal blue sweater he was wearing.  
  
"Hey..." he breathed, his tongue darting out to lick his parched lips. He mentally scolded himself as his fingers itched to card through the same thick strands of hair that tickled his ear. But that would have been wrong. _Very_ wrong. And while comforting friends was, of course, in the job description, stroking the hair of the friend whom, as much as he hated to admit it, he still had lingering, and not to mention pathetic, feelings for was definitely not the best idea.  
  
"M'sorry." Dave could _barely_ make out the clumsy articulation of words between the muffled sniffles against his chest, and that's when Kurt pulled away. He dragged his hands down Dave's ample torso before they moved to wipe away at the tears that streaked his reddened face. Dave's hands, however, relocated upon Kurt's upper arms, not quite ready—or _willing_ —to let his friend go.  
  
“Jesus, Kurt.” Dave buckled his knees to compensate for the slight difference in height and to better see Kurt’s face; to find any trace of a clue there as to what happened. “You gotta talk to me. Tell me what happened.”  
  
He guided Kurt towards the couch, just a few steps to their left, where they sat with their knees touching. Kurt’s head was downcast as he shook it. It was as Kurt was digging in his pocket before withdrawing a fabric square that Dave realized just how long Kurt had let his hair grow out. For the second time in less than a minute, Dave was fighting the urge to reach out and brush away at the styled points projecting towards his temple and the locks that curled delicately around the shell of his ear. Kurt paid no mind to Dave's current dilemma as he hid his face in the handkerchief, soaking up the tears as Dave's expression grew dark. He would almost be ashamed of his thoughts if it wasn't for his sudden realization, which made the previously worried expression grow grave.  
  
“What did he do?” he asked darkly and just a decibel over a whisper. Kurt gave a wet, though acerbic, laugh, as he withdrew his face from his hands and balled the handkerchief in his fist. Kurt said something indecipherable under his breath as his voice was thick with emotion and, well, _phlegm_.

  
“Fuck. I can’t believe…” Kurt trailed off, coughing. Dave let his hand briefly touch the fabric of Kurt's slacks covering his knee before standing up, signaling he would be right back. He could still hear the sounds of Kurt's melancholic presence and could still see him sitting, hunched over, on the couch as went into the adjoining kitchen. Dave pursed his lips as he opened one of the cupboards and retrieved a clear glass. He grabbed the pitcher of filtered water off the counter and filled the glass half way. Before he could even bring the cool drink to Kurt, the small voice spoke up again, somehow managing to waver weakly towards the spot where Dave stood.  
  
“Why does this keep happening to me?”  
  
Dave froze, his hand unmoving upon the cupboard door having just shut it. He had no choice but to listen to what was nothing more than a barely distinguishable plea as he clenched the glass in his vice of a grip, before reminding himself that it was just that— _glass_ —and that a trip to the emergency room for shards of glass in his hand would be counterproductive in helping his friend deal with his problems. So he was left feeling thoroughly useless as he stood there uncertain of what he should do.  
  
It broke his heart.  
  
Dave took a breath, building himself up before he went back into the living room. Kurt looked up at Dave with his puffy, red-rimmed eyes, the blue irises standing out starkly against the flushed, contrasting hue. Dave handed him the glass wordlessly, and Kurt took it. Dave had to give him credit as he saw the tiny, appreciative smile briefly upturn at the corners of his lips as he cradled the vessel in his hands to his chest as he leaned back into the earthy, suede couch cushions. Dave, rather than sitting next to him, sat on the edge of the sturdy mahogany coffee table so he would be able to see Kurt. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers loosely entwined with one another. His head was bowed, showing Kurt that he was ready to listen whenever he was ready to talk, but there was still no hurry. He heard the sound of lips drawing water from the glass in the form of a sip. Dave glanced up, only for his eyes to dart back down as he was distracted by the sheen of moisture that gathered above Kurt's lip from the water, and he saw Kurt staring down at the liquid in the glass as he spoke up.

* * *

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kurt slowly brought his hand to his mouth, both in contemplation towards Dave's conciliatory probing and to wipe away the residual droplets of water that gathered upon his cupid's bow. He nearly said yes, but when he spoke it had little to do with what had happened just hours ago.  
  
“I don’t know why you put up with me—always talking to you about my problems.” He grimaced into the glass like he could see his decrepit reflection staring back.  
  
“I’ve put up with a lot worse..." Dave said lightly, and then, as he gently nudged his knee with a knuckle, he chuckled and pointed out. "Remember Phillip?”  
  
Kurt looked up and was met with a grin, and he couldn't help but snort.  
  
Hanging his head and tapping the side of the glass with a short fingernail Kurt said, "Phillip was your boyfriend.”  
  
“Yeah, and his snoring was enough to wake up the entire floor so don’t talk to me about simply _“putting up with you”._ I put up with…” he paused as he thought contemplatively, “Big-headed coaches and lazy interns. When you need someone to talk to about whatever Ivan—“  
  
“Ian…”  
  
“…did to piss you off, I’ll be here to listen....” Dave spoke as though the problems between Kurt and his boyfriend were something that broke and fixed itself too many times to count. But some things could only be fixed so many times before all that remained was a fine, powdery dust. In the first month it had mostly consisted of petty arguments. Nothing too dramatic. Ian became exasperated at small things and always things that were inherently _Kurt:_ How long it took him to style his hair in the morning, wanting to go home to Ohio to spend Thanksgiving with his family (practically a tradition), his, apparently, annoying habits when it came to giving his unneeded opinion on people’s wardrobe choices. He was a costume designer, for goodness’ sake, he couldn't help it. Forgive him for wanting to spare his boyfriend the embarrassment of wearing brown shoes with a black belt. Kurt never would have guessed that he would have been so bad a boyfriend that it would have led to this.  
  
“…and not just now, but tomorrow, or the week after that… I know how much you like this guy so…”  
  
“He cheated on me,” Kurt drawled, realizing that Dave had not heard him earlier when he amended Dave, muttering under his breath about how it wasn’t _“what”_ Ian did this time, but _“whom”._ Kurt could actually pinpoint the second where Dave went from complete cluelessness to wanting to castrate the man. "'Liking him sort of flew out the window a couple of hours ago... Along with anything that he left in my apartment."  
  
When Dave gaped at him he sighed and then explained.  
  
“I got home from work early and I found him and his _... Floozy..._ In _my_ bed.”  
  
Kurt watched as Dave ran his hand over the shadow on his cheeks and couldn't help but feel guilty, despite what Dave said about always being there for him. It was obvious that he had had a long and hard work week. Leave it to him to make things worse.  
  
“Wait, “floozy”?" Dave's eyes widened as his hand froze. "What?”  
  
Kurt groaned.  
  
“I shouldn’t say _floozy_." He leaned his elbow against the arm of the couch as he rubbed his temple, his other hand holding the glass, which rested atop his thigh. "I’m sure she’s a nice girl. I mean, she seemed even more surprised than me... Kept saying _'what does he mean by boyfriend?'_ and _'his apartment?'_." Kurt waved his hand around. "Would have been nice to know that he was bisexual, though, not that it _really_ matters. You can imagine my surprise when I hear someone with an even higher-pitched voice than me when I walked into the apartment." He still had trouble getting the sounds, and not to mention the images, of out of his mind. Finding out your boyfriend was cheating on you was hard enough—he had learned this with Blaine and Sean—actually catching your partner in the process was far more real.  
  
Kurt paused, closing his eyes, and groaned as he said, "Fuck… I need to buy new sheets.”  
  
When Kurt opened his eyes once more, he found Dave staring at him incredulously before shaking his head.  
  
“You just found your _boyfriend_ in your bed, and with a _chick_ no less, and you’re worried about getting new _sheets?”_  
  
“Well... Yeah. I mean, that’s all they had between them to cover themselves up before I kicked them out into the hallway,” Kurt stated plainly.  
  
Dave let this sink in before asking quite seriously, "Have I told you lately how badass you are?”  
  
Kurt cracked a small smile.  
  
“You could stand to say it more often," he replied tiredly as the flicker of a smile died on his face. Dave sobered up quickly and rubbed his hands together.  
  
“You gonna be okay?”  
  
Kurt blinked before answering honestly, “I guess so. It's not like we had been together very long. But, still, long enough to give him his own key. Which I now know was stupid. But it’s nothing a movie marathon with my best friend can’t fix.”  
  
Dave squeezed his knee before standing and heading to the kitchen. Kurt followed suit.  
  
“I was planning on going to the store tomorrow. I'm running a little low on groceries," Dave explained, "but I’m pretty sure I’ve got half a carton of ice cream in the back of the freezer." When Dave got to the refrigerator, he pulled open the top door and made an _‘ah’_ sound and pulled out a carton of Neapolitan ice cream. Kurt grimaced as he folded his arms on top of the bar and rested his chin on it.  
  
“I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me, David. I’m not a fourteen year old girl on her period," he grumbled. Dave gave him a curious look as he continued.  
  
“I’m also going to need pizza with extra cheese," he explained placidly as he picked off a piece of fuzz on his sweater. "And alcohol. Lots of alcohol." Dave shook his head as he replaced the ice cream in the freezer for later.  
  
"You order the pizza and I’ll pick out the movie?" Dave asked. Kurt bit his lip contemplatively as he stared at Dave, who was already beginning to pull a couple of bottles out of the fridge.  
  
Somehow, despite his horrible day—despite being boyfriend-less and lied to—Dave was able to make him go from feeling like less than dirt to a person of worth; to feeling that there were at least some good guys in the world.  
  
Somehow, Kurt smiled.  
  
“Sounds like a plan.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

  
By the time Dave picked out the “ _The Amazing Spider-Man”_  from the pile and popped the disc into the DVD player, there was a knock on the door. Dave had attempted to coax Kurt into taking the twenty bucks he pulled out of his wallet to pay for the pizza, but Kurt had been quite adamant in paying for the two large pizzas—one sausage and jalapeño and the other green pepper, mushroom, and black olives. They each sat at one end of the couch with their feet pointed towards the other with their plates on their stomachs and their beers on the table in front of them. Dave used the remote to start the movie as they began to tuck in and eat their pizza.  
  
"Oh my God," Kurt groaned as he took the first bite. Dave could see Kurt from over the top of his knees as he closed his eyes in ecstasy as he chewed. "I swear this pizza is orgasmic. I can't remember the last time I've had pizza from this place."  
  
"You don't?" Dave asked amused as he watched the usual opening for  _Marvel_ movies—the rapid flipping through the comic book sequence.

He could remember the last time they ordered from  _Alessandro’s_ perfectly. The last time the two of them had a boys night like this had been months ago and after Kurt became worried sick after not hearing from Dave for days after learning that he and his boyfriend at the time, Anthony, had broken up. As much as Dave had wanted to be left alone—to sulk, sleep, and ultimately sink into a miserable depression—Kurt wasn't going to have it. For the second time, Kurt had done all he could to make Dave see the light at the end of the bleak tunnel.  
  
All he saw—all that needed to be seen—was Kurt.  
  
Kurt had always been his light at the end of the tunnel, and Anthony had been his last steady boyfriend.  
  
"If it wasn't yesterday, then it's been too long." He picked up an olive that managed to roll off the pizza and popped it into his mouth.  
  
"What's wrong with the place on your block?" If there was anything that still floored Dave about New York City, even after all the years that he had lived there, was how there seemed to be at least one pizzeria on every block. This ensured that the pizza was hot and fresh when it got to the door in twenty minutes tops. Not taking into account how desperate a person was for good pizza. Dave figured Kurt could easily order pizza from this place, though it would take a little bit longer to get to his apartment.  
  
"The sauce is bland, which almost makes me grateful that they use it so sparingly," Kurt said simply as Dave took the first bite of his own pizza. The heat of the jalapeños already started to deliciously burn his tongue, but the aromatic fennel in the sausage mellowed the spiciness out of the equation. The cheese was melted to perfection and it pulled away from the rest of the slice in greasy, gossamer strands. Dave had to pinch the excess with his fingers to keep himself from pulling the cheese, in its entirety, off the slice. Kurt seemed to be having the same problem and giggled as he sucked up a gooey strand like it was a pasta noodle.  
  
"I think we're gonna need some napkins." Kurt place his plate on the coffee table as he stood up and passed Dave as he made his way to the kitchen. Dave was grateful that he was facing the other way so he couldn't watch as Kurt walked away.  
  
 He knew he was screwed when it came to concentrating through the movie.  
  
He wasn't oblivious about the fact that his crush on Kurt had started to slowly creep into his awareness. It wasn't so much that he was ignoring it, but was doing all he could to tell himself not to fall into this trap again. It seemed as though it had taken him years to finally get over Kurt, even despite losing contact after he moved to New York for college. He wouldn't discover until his senior year, when one of his buddies from a fraternity granted him an exclusive invitation to one of their parties (Dave never once considered becoming a member—having to pay his own way through college meant double shifts at the NYU bookstore, and he couldn't risk his GPA on keggers), that Kurt was also in New York working as an intern at none other than Vogue and had been invited by one Rachel Berry (who was apparently dating one of his friends at NYU) to the same party.  
  
Dave could remember how kind nearly four years had been to Kurt—his jaw line was, somehow, even more defined than he could have thought possible, his vest and t-shirt combo showed off his slender neck, hugging his biceps, and complimenting his narrow waist. As gorgeous as Kurt looked in that crowded, chaotic room, Dave could tell just how much the man didn't want to be there. So when Dave showed up at Kurt's side (who was looking around at the rooms occupants, red Solo cup in hand, in mild distaste) Dave wasn't sure if Kurt had lit up because it was Dave who asked him if he wanted to get out of there to find someplace quiet to talk or because he finally had an excuse to get out of there and Dave was only convenient.  
  
Over the years, he realized, it had been the former.  
  
It was then that Dave learned how Kurt was seeing someone, a guy named Adam who he met through Rachel, and had only been dragged along by Rachel who told him that he needed to socialize. Dave wasn’t expecting anything to happen as a result of the encounter, but it was still a punch to the gut nonetheless. Of course Kurt was seeing someone. Though it had been years since he had seen him, Dave had hoped that with the years between them and the fact that they were practically two different people sitting in that small _Starbucks_  in comparison to those two teenagers on that fateful day in  _Breadstix_ all those years ago, Dave made the mistake of hoping for another chance.  
  
It was the hope that killed him. He had been so optimistic so many times and it was his expectations that had always let him down. There was always something standing in the way.  
  
Except now… there wasn't.  
  
But that was the thing. Sure, he still had lingering feelings for Kurt, but he wasn't an asshole. His friend just caught his boyfriend cheating on him. He couldn't just swoop in like a vulture. Kurt needed time to heal.  
  
And by then Kurt could already have moved on to someone new.  
  
Dave, expecting to feel some sort of bitterness towards this notion, was surprised when he felt more at peace than anything else. Kurt deserved to be happy, no matter who he was with, even though Dave knew that it would never be with him. Dave broke off a piece of his crust and bit into it, chewing it carefully. No, he needed get his head out of his ass, get through the movie, and be there for Kurt. He knew that there would never be an opportune time for him and Kurt. There would always be something in the way. But the time would always be right for Kurt to have him as a friend.  
  
"David!" Dave heard a laugh coming from the kitchen and he whipped his head around to see Kurt peering over the bar at him. "I swear I've been trying to get your attention for a minute, can your stop drooling over Andrew Garfield and answer me?"  
  
Dave shook his head as he drew himself from his reverie.  
  
"Sorry, um... What did you say?"  
  
Kurt huffed that little exasperated huff that Dave was so fond of.  
  
"I asked you if you wanted a second beer, so you wouldn't have to get up." Dave was pretty sure he heard Kurt strumming his fingers on the countertop.  
  
"Oh, yeah. That'd be great." He was only halfway through his first, but Kurt was already up, so why not?  
  
"Thank you." Dave's head rotated, following Kurt as he made his way to the living room once more and set the two bottles of beer on the table before turning to Dave. Before he handed him one of the napkins, he chuckled and said, "Hey, messy, you got some sauce on your face."  
  
Before Dave could do anything about it, let alone ask  _"where”_  Kurt was reaching out to him.  
  
"Here," he said as he swiped just beyond the corner of his mouth. Dave stared at Kurt with furrowed eyebrows, which had Kurt confusing his bewilderment with annoyance.  
  
"Uh--" Kurt quickly handed him the napkin, his cheeks almost matching the shade of the sauce. Dave took the napkin and stared at the small stain marring the otherwise pristine, white material. "Sorry, I didn't..." Kurt laughed nervously.  
  
"No." Dave stopped him so he wouldn't have to finish his explanation. He'd rather not hear it. How he  _"didn't mean it like that.”_  
  
"It's fine," Dave said briskly as he gave Kurt a tight smile. "Thanks."  
  
As Kurt gave a weak  _"'Kay"_   to Dave as he sat back down. He tried once more to tamper down the hope that felt like a weak, flickering spark amongst the kindle in his heart by telling himself that he was merely imaging the disappointed look on Kurt's face.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Kurt couldn't help but mentally belittle himself as he sunk back into the couch. He was stupid... Stupid, stupid,  _stupid_  for not coming up with a better and quicker excuse for what he had done.  
  
He couldn't explain how instinctual it felt to just… wipe away the smidgen of sauce on Dave's cheek. It was so easy. Why couldn't his relationships come with the ease that he had in this simple friendship. Everything with Dave was so easy, and it made him angry and flustered. He had trouble getting an explanation out, and it was understandable. After all, what was he supposed to say?  _"I didn't mean to give you any false hope though it's been years since you said you loved me, but I'm in an emotionally needy state at the moment and don't think I'm only gravitating towards you because you're convenient but because there was once a time where I thought I could love you too?”_  
  
Shit...  
  
It seemed ridiculous—for the feelings that he had for Dave, which he had long tucked away in a small recess of his heart, to come rushing back. They always came rushing back—with every break up that provided further proof that maybe Dave was the one for Kurt, with every moment such as the one, just then, that sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He had only just discovered that his boyfriend had been cheating on him. He had been distraught... A  _wreck._  He had rushed to Dave to have somebody to vent to, but, lo and behold, there was very little venting he had to do as just being with Dave put him in a good mood. He knew from the moment that he walked in that something was wrong. It was like Dave had some sort of ingrained translator that told him what it was he was feeling even when he was doing all he could to hide it. Or maybe Dave simply knew him well enough to know that trying to hide his feelings was as effective as putting a lid on a pot of water to keep it from boiling over—his emotions would only become more and more condensed before spilling over the brim.  
  
But none of that mattered because Dave was capable of solving all of his problems in just a matter of seconds with one of his hugs... He really gave the best hugs.  
  
Kurt shook his head. It was silly of him to get worked up over a simple hug or a few words of encouragement. Kurt thought of his former glee club friends, of Finn and Rachel who were probably eating dinner in their apartment just a few floors above his own, of Mercedes and Tina, Quinn and Santana... His girls. All of them were just as capable of comforting him and being so supportive. Even Puck, Mike, Sam, and Artie were capable of cheering him up and putting a smile on his face at the worst of times.  
  
Though only Dave made him feel so safe and— _dare he say it?_ —loved while doing so.  
  
Kurt wanted to bang his head on the table, though that wouldn't have gone very well with Dave sitting next to him. It seemed silly how all of this could have started from a few, simple Valentine's cards and ended here, where, once again, Dave was going out of his way to make him feel appreciated.

 

He realized it would have made so much more sense to say that he only offered to clean him up because he held a plate in one hand and a beer in the other, because then,  _maybe_ , he would eventually grow to believe himself.  
  
 _Stupid..._  
  
He'd have to settle for drowning his stupidity along with his desperation and woe with alcohol, as he began to down the half-full bottle of beer.

* * *

 

It was when Kurt was on his fourth bottle of beer, and having hardly touched his pizza despite being so engrossed in it before, that Dave knew that something was wrong. He knew Kurt.  _Well._  So he knew that he was a lightweight. Kurt revealed to him years ago about how, during their sophomore year of high school, he had vomited on Miss Pillsbury's shoes. He had known that on the day he ran into Kurt at the NYU party during college he had been drinking a  _Sprite_. It wasn't so much that he didn't like alcohol or that he never drank, it was just that he was always so careful while doing so because he knew how much more pronounced an effect it had on him than other people. So Dave saw an immediate red flag when Kurt decided to throw all caution to the wind and stand up, a bit unsteadily, when he sucked his fourth beer dry and was about to get another one.  
  
"Hey," Dave said, reaching out for Kurt's sleeve to still him from where he was sitting on the couch. "Where are you going?" he asked even though he knew the answer was quite plain, even if it didn't leave Kurt's mouth with the usual eloquence.  
  
"Get 'nother beer," Kurt said blearily. Dave didn't know what happened. Well, he was still aware of the fact that Kurt had been cheated on, but he seemed to be doing so well. Kurt had, at least for a little while, been distracted by their pizza.  
  
"Kurt, you know I don't mind you raiding my fridge, but maybe you should take a little break, alright." He stood in order to guide Kurt back to his spot on the couch. "Why don't we pick out another movie to watch?" Dave asked, as the credits had been rolling when Kurt stood up.  
  
"Fine...  _Dad._ " Kurt snapped, obviously not happy being bossed around while in his intoxicated state. Dave turned his head as he shuffled through the DVDs to see Kurt crossing his arms petulantly over his chest as he pointedly looked towards the window, away from Dave. Dave rolled his eyes at Kurt's sass, but was amused nonetheless.  
  
As Dave searched for a new movie, he realized that something glaringly obvious was missing from the stack of DVDs... There was  _Man of Steel_  and  _Superman Returns_ ,  _The Green Lantern_ , and  _Watchmen_...The presence of a certain dark, looming figure upon the covers, however, was nowhere to be seen. DVDs that he knew Kurt had in his collection but merely... Forgot? No... It couldn't be a coincidence.  
  
"Hey, Kurt, where's um..." he checked in the much taller  _Marvel_  stack just to make sure Kurt hadn't misplaced them. “Where are all the  _Batman_  movies?”  
  
A palpable silence filled the air long enough to cause Dave to look in Kurt's direction to make sure he had heard him, or wasn't passed out. He found that Kurt was staring at him unwavering, though his eyes shimmered almost painfully, and his voice was a whisper when he spoke.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"I was just wondering why you didn't bring—Kurt, are you alright?" Dave frowned in concern as turned from where he sat on the edge of his end of the couch.  
  
Kurt took in breath full of air so sharply that it startled Dave. When he blinked, a few tears leaked from his eyes and fell on his lap.  
  
"Yeah, I mean..." he began, his voice was vacillating with drunkenness and almost falsetto with emotion. “For someone who just found out that their boyfriend has been cheating on them, I'm doing..." he took a shaky breath, "remarkably well, aren't I…? I mean. I don't even know why I was so surprised in the first place. Our problems had been accumulating and... And accumulating. The disagreements, the..." Kurt paused choking back a sob. When he looked at Dave again, he had a sort of crazy desperation in his eyes. Like he needed assurance—assurance from Dave—that everything is going to be all right. Dave never would have pegged Kurt for a sad drunk. Kurt was normally so bright and vivacious; he had at least hoped his friend to be a happy drunk, or considering how feisty and demanding he could be, at times, an angry drunk. Though the current circumstances probably had an effect on his state of mind as well.  
  
"You know, you wanna know what...?" Kurt's inability to form sentences would have been more amusing if the situation hadn't been so sad. "Ian told me a week ago that he was going to dress up as Batman for Rachel's Halloween party," Kurt said.  _Ah_ , Dave thought. He had almost forgotten that it was this weekend.  
  
Kurt had pretty much given up on trying to get Dave to go to the party after he been pretty adamant that he didn't want to go this year—not when he would have to go to work the next day or when all he had to look forward to was seeing Kurt and his boyfriend make sickeningly sweet faces at each other the entire night.  
  
"And, you know what...? You wanna know what I told Ian? Here's what I told him, I said,  _‘Ian, you know… Maybe after the party you can keep the suit on and we can have some fun of our own.’”_  Dave was surprised when Kurt began to cackle maniacally, his face wet with tears, as he leaned back into the couch, throwing his head back as he slapped his knee. Dave looked on blankly.  
  
"Being the idiot that he is, apparently it wasn't crystal clear... what I meant... so I might have told him that the idea of being fucked by someone dressed up as Batman was  _hot_." Kurt prolonged the word  _hot_  before patting Dave on the arm, like he hadn't been listening the entire time and Kurt was trying to get his attention.

"And ya wanna know what he did? He asked me, he said,  _‘What... the fuck is wrong with you?’_  And that's when I said  _‘Whaddya mean?,’_  because, I mean, we've been together for two months and slept together, like  _numbers_  of times," Kurt slurred, "so I thought what's the harm in bein' honest, y’know? And he said  _‘Well, obviously something is wrong with you if you want to be fucked by scary guys wearing masks._ ’” Kurt sniffed as he reached over and picked up Dave's beer and took a long swig from it.  
  
Dave watched in stunned disbelief at Kurt as he stared down the neck of the dark brown bottle to see how much of the spicy liquid was left. Dave knew the alcohol was to blame, but he wished he hadn't heard any of that. Why did Kurt have to tell him that, of all things?  
  
"Kurt..." Dave said weakly as he scooted closer to him on the couch, but it was apparent that Kurt was nowhere near finished.  
  
"It doesn't even have to do with intimidation or... Or masks. Does he even know who Batman is? He's a good guy..." Kurt pounded the couch cushion with a fist, "A great guy. And sure, he's powerful and could probably lift me up and fuck me against the wall, which would be _so_ yummy, but he knows what he wants and he doesn't let anything get in the way of what he wants or protecting what he loves and... That's what I want. Just someone who knows what he wants and wants… _Me..._ And isn’t afraid to show it. The anonymity is just an added bonus. At least that way I would never have to know if the man underneath is cheating on me, like all the others. I just... I just want someone to love me. I don't want to be defined as not good enough by the number of guys who cheated on me."  
  
As Dave watched Kurt duck his head as tears dripped down his face, replacing his former indignation, once more. He wanted to say it. God, did he want to say it, but it wouldn't have been fair—to either of them. He knew that if Kurt were to reciprocate his feelings, it would only be a result of his vulnerable state. It also didn't help that he was angry as hell. Ian wanted to know what was wrong was  _Kurt_... Dave wanted to know what the fuck was wrong with _Ian_. Dave never  _role_  played himself, but at least he knew better than to shame someone for what they liked in bed. Hell, if one of his previous boyfriends had been into the idea of dressing up, he would have acquiesced in a heartbeat... done anything he could to please them and keep them happy in their relationship. But fuck... It was obvious that Kurt was just looking for a little security and satisfaction in his own relationships, and there was nothing wrong with that.  
  
"Kurt..." Dave said gently, finally breaking his silence and attempting to get Kurt to look at him. When he didn't move, Dave gently reached out and tilted Kurt's chin so he would have no choice but to turn his head.  
  
"Kurt, there is nothing wrong with you. At all," Dave said firmly. When Kurt scoffed, Dave gripped Kurt by the upper arms and stared at him fully in the face.  
  
"Kurt,” Dave started, suddenly coming up with an idea, “do you remember what Rachel Dawes said to Bruce in Batman Begins?" Kurt seemed to have trouble recalling that early, Christopher Nolan classic. He tilted his head adorably, looking much more innocent than most people his age. Dave illuminated him.

 

"She said it's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you." Dave gave him a little shake. "Dammit, Kurt. You are the strongest person I know. Life has continued to throw shit in your direction—your mom's death, your dad's cancer scare, asshole boyfriends, and... Closeted bullies..." He included in an afterthought. He had caused so much of the grief in Kurt's adolescent life that he wasn't even going to pretend to feel embarrassed about bringing it up. He owned up to it. But Kurt seemed surprised and saddened that he would include himself on that list. When he didn't say anything and merely gaped at him, Dave continued.  
  
"But you keep getting back up and fighting. That's what defines you, Kurt. Not your fucked up boyfriends who decided to sleep with someone behind your back because of their own insecurities. That defines them and them only. That and the fact they were not nearly good enough for someone as amazingly beautiful as you, inside and--"  
  
Dave had trouble understanding why he was incapable of speaking. Or where the slight saltiness in his mouth had come from. After all, one moment Kurt had been sitting there, quite still, and the next he could feel persistent hands bunching at the material of his shirt and pulling him close. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even see. Something warm and damp, however, was covering his mouth.  
  
Mere milliseconds ticked by like hours before Dave could begin to comprehend what was happening as he realized he had simply closed his eyes in shock. And when he opened them, he was met with the sight of what looked like dark fan brushes; the kind that he remembered using in the art class that he took as an elective during his freshman year; the kind of brush that was good for highlighting hair, stippling, or blending colors.  
  
But these weren't brushes. Those were eyelashes he was looking at—wet and separated into little individual chunks. And he wasn't back in college. No. He was in his living room and he was being kissed, and quite earnestly, by Kurt Hummel.  
  
Dave moaned, though it was more out of protest than anything else. He wanted to enjoy this moment. Fuck, he really did considering he dreamt of this, of having another chance to kiss Kurt, for years. But it was wrong. All wrong.  
  
"Kurt," Dave managed to mumble against Kurt's lips, which were soft and warm against his. He slipped his hands off Kurt's shoulders to circle his wrists, attempting to pry them away.  
  
"David... It's okay," Kurt whimpered as he attempted to kiss Dave again, his hands cradling his face like it was delicate china. Dave shook his head as he scooted away from Kurt. When Kurt opened his eyes, Dave's heart clenched knowing that it was he, this time, who caused the hurt that shimmered in the cerulean depths. He knew what Kurt was thinking. That he was just another guy who was not interested in him.  
  
He couldn’t have been more wrong.  
  
"No, Kurt. You've gotta stop. You're not in the right mind. You're drunk." Dave tried to explain as soothingly as he could, being out of breath.  
  
"No, really, I'm fine. I... David, I just..." Kurt stammered earnestly, attempting to reach out to him. He couldn't do this. He needed to get Kurt home. He could stay with Finn and Rachel until he had calmed down. Any place was better than here. Dave wasn't ready to deal with the pain, whether Kurt was drunk or not, were he to call him up the next morning, explaining how this was all just a huge mistake. No, he was going to nip it right in the bud before anything more could happen.  
  
"I'm going to call Finn and Rachel, alright? I'll take you back to your apartment. They've been your friends longer than I have. They can take good care of you." As Dave picked up his cell phone, it took all he had to not to go to Kurt—sitting in his same spot and staring vacantly at where Dave had just been sitting—to pick up the pieces of his already shattered heart.

* * *

 

The cab ride had Kurt feeling all the more embarrassed than hurt. The alcohol had started to wear off and he was finally starting to notice the weight of the consequences of his actions. And that was the worst part, he had been incredibly aware of what he was doing when he kissed Dave. He wanted to kiss Dave, and for so long. Only when he kissed him, he was numb to how it would change their friendship.  
  
Dave pushed him away. He almost wanted to laugh, but it would have sounded too obnoxious, too  _insane_ , in the tiny backseat compartment. Of course Dave would push him away. Why would he want him? He was a mess, not only emotionally, but as a whole. It was obvious why Ian cheated on him. Why would anybody want to be with a hare-brained, high-maintenanced person such as himself?  
  
Kurt couldn't do anything to stop the tiny sob from escaping his lips. He just wanted to reach out and touch Dave, to have any amount of assurance that he hadn't completely screwed their relationship up.  
  
From the corner of his eye, however, he could see Dave, illuminated with a yellow glow from the streetlights as their cab passed them at a crawl, turn his head in his direction before reaching out to him.  
  
"C’mere?" It had been a small request, not a demand. As if asking him, first and foremost, if he would allow Dave to comfort him, despite pushing him away before.  
  
Kurt nodded his head weakly as he scooted towards Dave, making the worn leather seat squeak. Dave lifted his arm and curled it around his shoulder, accommodating for Kurt to circle his own arms around Dave's waist and to rest his head on his shoulder.  
  
"M'sorry..." Kurt barely had enough energy to get the words out. He was beyond exhausted; he was completely cried out. He felt as though he could fall asleep there and use Dave as a big, warm pillow.  
  
"Shh. I know how alcohol gets to you. It's fine. It'll be okay," Dave quieted him assuredly. As he rubbed his hand up and down his arm, Kurt craned his neck to look up at Dave who was staring out the window. He swallowed thickly as he voiced his one concern.   
  
"Will... Will we?" he asked fearfully.  
  
Dave looked down at him pensively as Kurt toyed with one of the buttons on Dave's opened coat. He could tell that Dave caught sight of the movement and he stilled his hand before pulling it away altogether.  
  
And then Dave caught it with his own, massaging his thumb over his knuckles and Kurt’s breath became trapped in his throat.  
  
Dave merely smiled.

* * *

  
Dave could see Rachel and Finn standing at the front entrance of their apartment building when they pulled up to it. He helped Kurt out of the car after paying the driver and Rachel, upon seeing the two of them, ran over, her coat tails flapping behind her as Finn followed behind at a more leisurely pace.  
  
"Oh, Kurt. You look awful. Are you okay? Come on, let's get you inside..." she guided Kurt towards the building, and Dave could hear her mention something about how he must be freezing and that his sweater was way too thin. She turned back and gave Dave an appreciative look, and he nodded.  
  
"Hey, man." Dave had nearly forgotten that Finn had been out there, too, and was now in front of him. His hands were pushed deep into his pockets to protect them from the cold. "Thanks for taking Kurt in and bringing him back in one piece. We heard what happened. Ian... Stupid jerk... He called Rachel asking if she had a spare key so he could get the rest of his things after Kurt flushed his key down the toilet." Dave couldn't help but chuckle, though emotionlessly, at Kurt's gall and Ian’s expense.  
  
"Sounds a bit like something Kurt would do, doesn't it?" Finn asked.  
  
"Nah," Dave started, shaking his head. "The Kurt we know would probably melt the key down and make it into some kind of brooch. That other Kurt is just scary."  
  
They both grimaced.  
  
"I just wish he could have dumped him weeks ago, before any of this could have happened. My brother deserves a lot better than all these assholes he's been dating."  
  
"Yeah, he really does," Dave said airily as he tried not to sound jealous of the idea of Kurt moving on so quickly. He huffed some warm air into his cupped hands to warm them up and when he looked back at Finn there was a growing smile on his face.  
  
"Hey... Are you coming to our— _sorry_ — _Rachel's_ party on Sunday?"  
  
"I think I'm going to pass this year, dude. What with work the next morning."

  
"Well, you can always just drop by for a little bit? Have a drink. Eat some of Rachel's gross vegan hors d’oeuvres. Dance and let loose a little bit, y’know,” Finn coughed none too inconspicuously into a fist and Dave could have sworn he muttered, “with Kurt”.  
  
“What did you just say?”  
  
“What?” Finn managed to look confused. “Oh, I said Kurt’s gonna be there. Probably upset that he had to go to the party alone and that you didn't get to see his costume." Being a costume designer meant that Halloween for Kurt was more like Christmas. Sure he got to make elaborate costumes everyday day, but it was rare that he ever got to wear his own creations. Every year for the past five years, at least, it had been kind of a trope as to what crazy costume would Kurt being wearing this year.  
  
Dave hated that he would have to miss it.

* * *

  
Kurt didn’t know why Finn and Rachel had yet to start having babies. After all, Rachel would be an excellent mother, what with her constant nagging, and incessant babying of him.  
  
He had told her the entire ride up the elevator that he had no problem just going to his apartment and crashing, but it was no use. She insisted on making him a cup of coffee and a steaming bowl of soup. He acquiesced, not wanting to argue. Though his hands were tingling with the cold from outside, he could still feel the way Dave’s fingers had soothed him as they brushed against his knuckles. He was sweet. It was no wonder he was crazy about him.  
  
That was where his confusion came in.  
  
Dave didn’t kiss him back. It should have been expected. Dave was courteous if not gentlemanly. He wondered whether if it had to do with his— _their_ —troubled past. If one of his boyfriend’s had been drunk and started kissing him, surely he wouldn’t be as quick to pull away?  
  
And that’s when it hit him. Maybe… Maybe Dave did still have feelings for him. Maybe Dave had only been so reluctant to make a move because he was afraid of Kurt rejecting him again.  
  
“Rachel,” Kurt said, stopping abruptly halfway down the hall. “I’ll be right back, okay? I just need to…” he didn’t finish the sentence before he took off towards the elevator, a smile breaking out on his face.  
  
For the first time that night, he allowed that hope to overtake him.

* * *

  
“David!”  
  
Dave looked over Finn’s shoulder when he heard the voice calling his name. He tried to ignore the smirk that accompanied the clap on the shoulder as Kurt bounded down the four steps, taking two at a time.  
  
“I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you at the party then?”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“David, oh thank goodness. Finn, can I please talk to Dave for just a second?” Kurt asked as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
“Sure. I’ll see you inside, little bro.” He nodded at Dave before his eyes darted towards Kurt. He mouthed what looked like  _“think about it”_  behind Kurt's back.  
  
“Hi,” Kurt said, like he hadn't spent the entire night with Dave, rolling back on the balls of his feet, almost nervously. Dave didn’t take that as a good sign.  
  
“Is everything all right? Rachel scare you away?” Dave could see Finn going up the steps to meet with his wife who had emerged from inside the apartment once more. She had her hands on her hips as she tapped her foot impatiently on the concrete steps.  
  
“Not necessarily. Actually, I… There was something that I wanted to tell you—that has to do with what you said before.”  
  
“Oh? You might have to be a little more specific.”  
  
“About what Rachel Dawes said to Bruce. About how it’s not who we are underneath but what we do that defines us?” Kurt was breathless, like when he told him it was okay to his him. He attempted to remind himself how Kurt had practically bounded out of the apartment.  
  
“Yeah?”

  
“I think it’s about time you realize that that advice can apply to you, too, David," Kurt said, wringing his hands out in front of his waist. He, on the other hand, stood there quite still.  
  
“Thank you for tonight. For everything. It really meant a lot to me,” Kurt smiled sadly. Just as he was about to turn on the spot, his head bowed, Dave quickly slipped his hand into his. Kurt turned his head as Dave squeezed it.  
  
"What are friends for?" Dave asked quietly as Kurt responded with a watery smile. He sniffed, regaining his composure, as he turned in towards Dave, inclining his head and brushing his lips against the stubbly cheek far too briefly before turning around without another word.  
  
He resisted touching a hand to his cheek—upon the spot where Kurt’s lips had just been. That spot somehow felt warmer than the rest of his face, in the cold. Like it had been seared with a red hot poker.  
  
He looked up in a daze to Kurt, silhouetted by the lights that shone through the lobby doors. Kurt looked like he was being scolded by Rachel, but that didn’t stop him from averting his eyes and locking them with Dave. Kurt gave him a knowing smile.  
  
Dave might not have understood in what context the quote could have been applied to him, but he did know one thing... He was going to go to that party, and he knew exactly what he was going dressed as.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

  
Dave didn’t know why he thought this was a good idea. Not only was the snug, uncomfortable material riding up his ass and leaving very little to the imagination, the mask made his face itch and his head hot, and the cape was completely ridiculous.  
  
On Saturday, the day before the party, Dave scoured every store within a mile radius in order to find the perfect costume. He told himself that it would have been much easier to go to Kurt himself and ask for his help in creating the costume (he tried not to let his mind linger too long on the idea of Kurt taking his measurements), but that would have defeated his purpose.  
  
Kurt was to never know it was him in the costume.

  
The mask and cushioned “chest plate” definitely helped conceal any distinguishing features. While he was already quite tall and large, the cushioned pecs made him appear even more so. The mask covered the top half of his head—save for his eyes—so Kurt would be unable to pick him out based on hair color or style. He doubted Kurt could even pick him out of a line up if the opportunity presented itself.  
  
He was convinced, however, that this was just about the worst idea that has ever come to him. Not only would he risk losing Kurt’s friendship forever, but also Rachel and Finn’s if they ever discovered his motive.  
  
He had been able to enter the expansive, high ceilinged apartment with a group of other people, unnoticed. The fact that he called Finn up and told him that he would not be able to attend, as much as the man tried to convince him otherwise, aided him in his mission.   
  
He was going to get Kurt laid.  
  
Sure it would have been more accurate of him to say that he was going to fuck Kurt, but this had very little to do with him and more to do with his friend.  
  
Dave had thought long and hard about what Kurt revealed to him the night before. “It’s what we do that defines us.” He was going to do this for Kurt. He was going to do for him what his boyfriend had refused. He wasn’t going to make Kurt feel judged or shameful, but indulge him in one of his fantasies. And he would never have to know it was him—and if  _that_ wasn’t enough to make his heart ache. He had one night to make Kurt feel adored and help him get his confidence back. And then maybe it would be enough to clear his head and move on as well.   
  
All that was left was the complex matter of whether it would work.

* * *

 

Kurt arrived at Finn and Rachel's before any of her other guests had arrived in order to help set up the food, refreshments, and Halloween themed decorations (synthetic spiderwebs creeping and interweaving throughout the stair railings, bat silhouette stickers stuck on the inside of the windows, and artificial pumpkins that lit the room in an eerie orange glow). He didn't mind helping. He needed some way to clear his mind. But it didn't take him any time at all to get there just being four floors below their huge penthouse apartment—two floors with towering windows and wide balcony that overlooked the New York City skyline. The money she brought in as a Broadway performer was evident, not that having his own business did not.  
  
As Kurt set down the platter of rice paper spring rolls and complimentary zesty carrot-ginger dipping sauce (a vivid orange, further complimenting the Halloween theme), the door bell chimed signaling the third round of guests that had arrived. The ones that had since arrived were already mingling amongst each other, listening to the music and already helping themselves to the finger foods. They all would know each other, of course, being Rachel's co-workers. Kurt doubted there was anybody truly famous in the room, though so far there were only a handful of people who weren't wearing costumes that concealed who they were. He doubted he would recognize who they were anyway. They were probably just actors of the choruses, understudies, minor character actors... Rachel was only the understudy for the role of Elphaba, but that didn't mean she wasn't bringing in some big bucks.  
  
Kurt felt an incredible sadness as he looked about the room. Despite the number of people, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly alone. He hadn't heard from Dave the entire weekend and had to learn from Finn that he would not be coming. He knew he would have to return to his apartment sooner or later, as he left his DVDs behind on the night Dave returned him home, but the last thing he wanted was to need an excuse in order to see his friend. He hoped that what he had told him on Friday would incite him to make a move, but it seemed as though it had all been in vain.  
  
Kurt watched as more people piled through the door being held open by Rachel in her Glinda costume, complete with her hot pink dress with a fitted bodice and blonde wig (Kurt had rolled his eyes at Rachel's attempt at irony when he had arrived and began to second guess his own ensemble, wondering how many people in the room might have played the role of who he was currently dressed as). He felt his stomach lurch as he saw a black figure squeeze through the door. Kurt turned around abruptly, leaning against the table for support and clutching the wooden top to stop his hands from trembling.

 

 _No._  It  _couldn't_  be. Kurt leaned against the table ducking his head in an attempt to remain inconspicuous. There was no way he would show up to the party after what he had done and how he had reacted. He had neither the audacity or the balls.  
  
Kurt peeked around his shoulder, trying to hide as much of his face as he could, as Rachel closed the door behind the guests with a pleased and exuberant smile. He watched as she flounced, holding the ruffled skirt of her dress as she trotted daintily on her way to the kitchen. Kurt pushed off the edge of the table purposefully, head bowed, as he followed her into what he hoped was an empty room.  
  
"Rachel.” He was pleased to find that she was the only person in the kitchen. He hissed her name just as she was about to start filling some more glasses with champagne and she jumped, covering her heart with her hand as she set down the bottle she nearly dropped.  
  
"Kurt, you almost gave me a heart attack," she said reproachfully, lightly whacking his arm. "What's wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost." She giggled at her own appropriate joke.  
  
"No, but I think I just saw Ian," he said softly. He was beginning to feel nauseous at the possibility that the man who gave him such grief was in the other room. Rachel blanched.  
  
"That's impossible, Kurt. There's no way he would show his face here after the…  _mildly_ threatening phone call I left him," she explained somewhat guiltily as Kurt muttered  _‘Oh my God’_  at the ceiling.  
  
"Did you even see his face?" Rachel asked gently, laying a calming hand (this time) on his arm.  
  
"No, he's dressed up... Wearing a mask."

 

"Then how can you even be sure it was him?"  
  
Kurt sighed impatiently and explained, "Somebody out there is dressed up as Batman. Ian was planning on dressing up as Batman. I only saw him for a split second before looking away."

  
Rachel pursed her lips and huffed wearily through flared nostrils before grabbing Kurt's emerald green sleeve and pulling him towards the archway so they could peep around the frame.  
  
"Where is he? Show me,” she demanded. Kurt blinked.  
  
"Rachel… He's the guy dressed up as a giant  _bat_... Kind of hard to miss." He might have been impatient, but it was only because he needed to be reassured that it wasn't Ian attempting to win him back by means of crashing the party.  
  
"That guy?" she asked him incredulously, nodding her head in the direction of the built man. Then she looked at him in a way that clearly conveyed she believed him to be drinking too much.  _Again._  "Kurt, he is  _way_  too tall to be Ian. And..." she eyed the man with mild interest. "And broad. You know he looks  _really_  good. Probably even better underneath." She gave him a pointed look, fluttering her thick eyelashes. "Maybe you should go talk to him?"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
"Do you really think that's best for me right now? To jump head first into another relationship?" Kurt asked, placing his hands on his narrow waist.  
  
"Well, first you'd need to establish whether he plays for your team,” she shrugged, “but, who knows... There's nothing wrong with a little fun… Blowing off some steam."  
  
Kurt thought about it, the costume undoubtedly causing him to be a bit biased. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with just  _talking_  to him."  
  
"Good, because if you don't then I will," on an afterthought, she said, “don’t tell Finn I said that.” Then she poked him in the arm before squealing, "Ooh. You go, I've got to get my wild mushroom vol-au-vents out of the oven before they burn." She opened the drawer to the left of the stove to don a pair of polka-dotted oven mitts.

Kurt turned, leaving Rachel to her business, but still not leaving the room. He glanced warily from where he stood in the kitchen to find, much to his surprise, the man indiscreetly staring at him. Kurt felt as though his heart leapt into his throat and felt incredibly exposed by the man’s fiery gaze, though he did feel better since hearing Rachel’s judgment on the matter.

This definitely couldn’t be Ian.

The man's gaze didn't waver as Kurt stared back at him unblinkingly and with his feet feeling like they were glued to the floor. He would have to use both hands to count how many seconds they stood like this. The heat that Kurt felt roiling throughout his body was unlike anything he ever felt before. And then it stopped, leaving him feeling desperate and frenzied to be in this man’s presence once more.  
  
The man reached out behind him—behind his cape—to pull open the sliding door leading to the balcony. As he stepped outside, he melded to the darkness behind him, and Kurt became indefinitely intrigued.  
  
And then he followed.

* * *

 

Dave placed his hands, which were clammy with sweat, on the railing as he looked upon the innocently twinkling lights of the city. He could almost imagine how Bruce Wayne felt when he traversed the crime-ridden city of Gotham—how much that hero had at stake when it came to protecting the city’s inhabitants. The only thing Dave cared to protect was Kurt. Just as nobody asked Bruce to protect his city, nobody had asked Dave to look after the other man. It was almost inherent—simply a natural thing to do. And neither he nor Batman felt any contempt for the roles they played. They would literally jump in front of a bullet if it meant saving the ones they loved.  
  
Kurt deserved to be treated to a night of well overdue adoration after all of these jerks he's been with. He just hoped that he had incited enough curiosity within him to get him to sneak out onto the balcony so he could talk to him without anyone else barging in. He had to tell himself that this would work. His outfit, after what Kurt revealed to him two nights before, was bound to be like cat nip to him. He would just have to wait until Kurt came to him. He couldn't arouse any suspicion and he definitely couldn't have Kurt knowing it was him. He was in a very precarious position. Due to their past, he couldn't have Kurt thinking that he was using his fantasies in his favor, but he wasn't about to stop the excitement from filling him up. It was one thing to fulfill Kurt's wildest dreams, and another thing to make them  _wild_. The last thing he needed at the moment was to be plagued with stage fright.  
  
"I didn't think Batman was one to use the front door. Here I was, under the impression he liked to make an entrance."  
  
Dave turned around to see Kurt standing in front of the glass door after having slipped out onto the balcony rather elusively. He might as well be his Robin. If only he had the outfit for it.

As gorgeous as he was far away, he was ten times more stunning up close, as always. His rich brown hair looking silky smooth from the way it swept upward into a point. It made his face appear to be even more graceful and refined. His costume exuded regality, as well—the lush green hue and opulent and ornate gold design upon his chest. Dave was well-aware of who Kurt was dressed as.  _Fiyero_. Though he had yet to see the production, Kurt was not one to keep quiet about just how much he loved it. Granted, Kurt and Rachel had both been appalled when he mentioned that he never once saw it, but forgave him pretty quickly once he said that the first time he goes to see it will be when Rachel is promoted to the lead, which he knew meant soon.  
  
"No," Dave said, patting the useless utility belt that was made out of some spongy material. It took him everything he had not to laugh. Leave it to Kurt to be completely snarky in an attempt to guard his true feelings. He expected him to be dubious of him from the moment he devised his plan. Why would he not, considering how horribly Ian had reacted to the information he divulged? Dave told himself how he needed to play it cool. He couldn't revert back to his apprehensive ways just because this was  _Kurt._  "Grappling hook not included." 

Kurt snorted before taking a sip of champagne. If he didn't know any better, he thought Kurt looked as nervous as him as he swirled sparkling liquid in the glass.  
  
"So, which one of Rachel's friends are you?" Kurt asked nonchalantly and Dave felt his stomach churn, but then he had an idea. He tsked and gave Kurt an impish smile from behind his mask.  
  
"A superhero can never reveal his identity."  
  
Kurt's eyes widened as if he was impressed. He took another sip of alcohol before he set the glass on the small, decorative table Rachel had on the balcony.  
  
"Ah yes," Kurt said as he leisurely swayed towards Dave. The music from inside could be heard faintly from where they stood on the balcony. At least they had something to cut the tension.

This was good, Dave thought as Kurt came closer. Dave wanted to avoid the light as much as he could. That would only make it easier for Kurt to pick up on any distinguishing features or habits—the shape and size of his mouth, his inclination of licking his lips when he was nervous.

Kurt continued, "Because you have dangerous enemies and a city to protect," Kurt said playfully, giving Dave a coy smile.  
  
"Well, I don't know about a city, but I'd hate to see anything happen to anyone as captivating as you." Talk about being honest.   
  
Dave watched Kurt's eyes grow weary and he was afraid that he might have blown it with his bluntness.  
  
And then finally Kurt leaned in, licking his lips enticingly.  
  
"What do you say about going somewhere a little more private?" The balcony was private enough, but Kurt seemed to have a whole other definition of  _“private”_  in mind. Dave had to keep himself from gulping. This was good. This was very, very good. Kurt was taking control.  
  
"And you  _do_  realize,” he turned so that his back was against the railing, “the party only just started. I hate to take you away from any... Festivities." Much to his surprise, Kurt leaned in, stroking his side lightly with his fingertips. Dave had to tell himself to breathe.  
  
"Just think of it as moving the party somewhere else,” Kurt said sweetly.

Was this actually working?  
  
"Why don't we go to your place?" Kurt asked innocently, and that’s when Dave felt his entire plan crash around him.  
  
 _Shit._

Clearly he hadn’t thought this through.

This was not something he had anticipated.  _His_  place? How in the hell was he supposed to take Kurt to his apartment when they hung out there nearly every other weekend.  _‘Dammit, Kurt,’_  he wanted to say. You live in this  _very_ same building.  
  
"You know,” now was the time to think quickly on his feet, “the Bat Cave is kind of far away. I'd hate to make you wait too long for any festivities of our own."  
  
Kurt's eyes had only lit up at this.  
  
"You're right. Why don't  _you_  meet me in apartment 1601. Four floors down. I'll leave the door unlocked and you'll... You'll leave the mask on?" Dave could hear the hope in his voice.  _‘Yes,’_  he thought, wanting to punch the air. He was  _in_.  
  
Dave inclined his head. He was certain that had he opened his mouth the only thing that would come out would be a squeak.

  
Kurt gave him a wicked smile as he picked up his glass and opened the door, slipping through it once more.  
  
"I'll be seeing you soon,” Kurt practically purred as he closed the door behind him.  
  
Dave let out the breath he had been holding as he tried not to keel over.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

  
Kurt paced fretfully throughout his living room, wringing his hands out while he muttered under his breath.  
  
What was he thinking, inviting this random and potentially dangerous stranger to his house? Did he have a death wish?  
  
No... As much as he wanted to pretend that it was his safety he was concerned with he knew that this wasn't the problem that was weighing heavily on his mind. Even if this guy were to attempt to murder him ruthlessly in his bed, he did have the home-field advantage of being in an environment that was familiar to him (pepper spray in the bedside table drawer, meat cleaver in the kitchen drawer, letter opener in the end table drawer, he ticked off, just in case). The problem that plagued his mind, more than anything, was what the man must be thinking after having been blatantly and unabashedly propositioned for sex.  
  
 _'What's wrong with this guy?' 'What a weirdo.'_  The possibilities of what could be running through the man’s mind had to be endless.  
  
Kurt stopped his pacing as he heard the front door creek open. Soon the threshold was filled with the sight of the daunting figure. Kurt was glad the he kept the lights off and that the only light in the apartment was that of the full moon and its ethereal glow, which snuck pass the partitions in the window blinds. He didn't want to fathom what shade of red his face was.  
  
"Hi," he squeaked, taking a step back only to bump into the end table. The table was jarred enough so that the lamp wobbled dangerously, but he was able to catch it and steady it before it could topple over. As he ran a hand over his face in mortification, he forced himself to reconsider their entire situation.  
  
"You okay?" The man chuckled. It was an amused, rumbling laugh and it immediately made him feel at ease. But not as much as he hoped.  
  
"Yeah," Kurt said a little breathlessly as the man shut the door quietly behind him. This was it. No turning back now. He tried to stand a little straighter, more confident, but it was practically impossible to feel sexy and at ease with himself in the rough and heavy material of his costume.  
  
The man seemed to take a moment to examine Kurt—to determine for himself whether he was, in fact, telling the truth—and his stiff stance must have been satisfactory enough for him because he simply uttered “good” before taking one, two, three strides in his direction before he could feel the man’s fervent hands squeezing his waist at the thick leather belt and his lips hot and eager as they melded with his own.  
  
Kurt had been so overtaken by shock that he seized up in the man's arms. His head swam as he awkwardly placed his hands in the crook of the man's elbows, which made the man pull away and he gasped for breath.  
  
"I'm... I'm so sorry, I just..." Kurt stammered. For the second time that night, Kurt wished he was as small as he currently felt so he could easily hide underneath a piece of furniture. It seemed he used up all of his tricks of seduction and every ounce of his poise while they were on the balcony. But then, almost as if he sensed Kurt’s embarrassment, the man raised his massive hands—vast enough to easily throttle him if he wanted to—and merely cupped his face.  
  
"You just need to relax," the man said kindly as he brushed his thumbs over his cheekbones with far more tenderness than what he imagined a man that size was capable of and added, "And I can help you with that."  
  
“I’m sorry,” he repeated once more, looking at the Batman design on the man’s vast chest so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “I just… My boyfriend… Ex-boyfriend… He…”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
Kurt glanced up, his eyes briefly meeting with the pleasantly warm, though shadowy, eyes. Instead of revealing what was bothering him, he imposed upon the man a simple statement.  
  
“You seemed  _really_  on board with keeping your costume on.” His voice sounded far more suspicious than he intended in his own ears. The man only laughed.  
  
“Well, it seemed like a good idea. Hot, actually,” he added. “Hell, I’d be fine if you wanted to stay in your costume,  _Fiyero_.”  
  
Kurt raised his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what he was more impressed with, the fact that the man was more than enthusiastic to follow Kurt’s wishes, or how he knew the name of the  _Wicked_ character he was dressed as.  
  
“Actually,” Kurt said, putting a hand on his chest. “I think I would much rather prefer being  _out_ of character,” Kurt offered innocently. And then the man replied.  
  
“I think that makes two of us.”  
  
Kurt swallowed thickly as the man took a purposeful step back. Kurt allowed him to undo his belt and strip it off of him completely before dropping it so that it clattered to the floor. The man followed shortly behind, dropping to his knees with a soft thud. Kurt was mesmerized as he looked down at the man kneeling on the ground before him. For Kurt, this was like looking into the fodder material of his dreams. He groaned, his head falling back on it's own accord as the man’s hands groped his ass before running down the back of his thighs. Unthinkingly, Kurt reached for the hem of his long-sleeved top and stripped it off his torso, over his head, before throwing that on the ground as well.  
  
Automatically, the man leaned in towards his trim waist and began nibbling at the pale skin around his belly button. In the ten years since high school Kurt had been aware that his torso was not nearly as defined as it used to be—not when he wasn’t dancing for glee club practice every day. The man didn’t seem to mind as he nipped and lathed his tongue over the pale flesh, and he let his hands roam to the back of the material covering the man’s head, giving him the encouragement to continue.  
  
The man pulled back causing Kurt’s hands to fall to his broad shoulders. His disappointment didn’t last long as he had only moved back in order to pull his pants and boxers down past his groin, freeing his cock from the constricting material.  
  
He heard the man curse under his breath as he wasted no time in wrapping his hand around his dick, pumping his length. Kurt could already feel himself growing hard, despite how early the man was in his ministrations.

 

He knew the costume was to blame.  
  
Kurt also knew he was in trouble when the man, in all of his massiveness, gazed up at him through those small eye holes in his mask as he opened his mouth to reveal just the slightest hint of pink tongue, before closing his eyes and guiding his cock into his mouth.  
  
A throaty groan was all that Kurt could iterate as felt a gentle pressure upon his glans as only the head of his cock was engulfed in that delicious heat.  
  
"Fuck," he hissed through bared teeth as he wound his fingers through the curls at the back of the man's head as his tongue flattened on the underside of his cock. As bobbed his head, his stretched lips slid down the shaft, only stopping at where his hand was wrapped around the base.  
  
Kurt honestly didn't know how long this night would last. He knew that during the times he had jacked off to this very thought, he was never able to last long.  
  
Soon, as the man had taken to wrapping his hand around his leaking, spit covered dick, Kurt pulled back. The man seemed confused for a brief second before he realized that Kurt was holding onto his shoulder in order to kick off his tight, black boots, before slipping off his boxers and pants entirely and stepping swiftly out of them.  
  
Once Kurt was standing completely naked in front of him, his cock arched upward and the head a bashful shade of pink, the man stood to his feet.  
  
"Bedroom," Kurt said simply as he grabbed the end of the long cape and dragged the man behind him to his room.  
  
Once they were in the bedroom, he was surprised, though not disappointed, at how drastically and quickly the mood in the room changed.  
  
"Get on the bed." Kurt whipped his head around towards the dangerously low-voiced command, and he felt his cock twitch almost painfully, as if already begging for more attention. He nodded, through, and started to sit down on the edge, but was stopped before he could even bend his knees.  
  
"No, I want you face down. On your stomach." Kurt wouldn’t be surprised if the pounding of his throbbing cock matched his heartbeat. He was even more aroused now than when he was the one in charge.  
  
Obediently Kurt pressed a knee into the mattress and lowered himself until his forehead pressed into the back of his hands and so his feet dangled off the side of the bed.  
  
"Good." The man was simply just a voice now. There was no way of knowing where the man was in the room, as the plush carpet in his bedroom cushioned the footfalls that could be caused by the man's heavy boots.  
  
He wondered what the man was doing. He liked to believe that he was staring at his body strewn out across his new bedspread, vulnerable and exposed, thinking of what he was planning to do to him as he stroked himself.  
  
It wasn't long before he felt the familiar hands traveling up his ankles to calf muscles, and he nearly kicked out in surprise.  
  
"C'mere," the voice said throatily as he felt the hands rest on his lower back. He didn't move, though. In fact, he almost raised his head at the tone of voice and the gentle command behind it. It was so... Familiar.  
  
Kurt frowned as he raised his head slightly. Surely he was going crazy.  
  
"You okay?" The man asked, and Kurt shook his head, though not to his question.  
  
"Y-yeah," Kurt mumbled, laying his head back down. "Fine." Though clearly he wasn't fine after considering for one second (and one second too long) that this man could possibly be someone he met before, let alone his best friend.  
  
"Yeah," he said once more before letting this man— _not_ Dave, he told himself, wanting to laugh at his stupidity—manipulate his body like some sort of ragdoll. As he bent his knees, curling himself back towards the stranger so that his ass was in the air. He knew this wasn't the best time to be hearing the advice that Dave had given him, and it repeated itself in his head so clearly that the man behind him might as well be whispering it to him. Dave had been right. He did deserve someone who treated him better than his past boyfriends. Maybe this man could be the step forward to finding a man who was perfect for him—who treated him with respect, but also took his own feelings and desires into consideration. He only wished that person could have been--  
  
"Dav... Mmhmph." Kurt couldn't help the gasp he let out as he felt something smooth and wet plunge into him. It took him a moment to make the connection that the guy was rimming him and it was the man's tongue and not just a really small and oddly shaped dick that caused him the bout of surprise mingling with the searing pleasure. He managed to muffle the gasp by pressing his face into the mattress, his face contorting in ecstasy as he squeezed the base of his cock to keep himself from coming.   
  
"D... Oh, God... Fuck," he cried as he pressed back into the man's face with desperation. The man had slipped his arms between his legs and around his waist so that his hands kept his ass cheeks spread open and immobilized. Kurt was unable to move (not that he would even dare) as he nibbled at the ring of muscle.  
  
"Please..." Kurt moaned, his mouth gaping wantonly against the fabric, as the stiff muscle stabbed in and out of him, almost frantically, as if he was some sort of delicacy that he may never have the opportunity to taste again.  
  
The man slipped his hands out from between his legs and Kurt could now feel the hot breath panting against his cool, wet skin. He needed more. And he knew this man had plenty more to offer him.  
  
Kurt collapsed, however, and he pressed his pelvis rhythmically into the mattress in an attempt to get some friction and the man seemed to read his mind.  
  
"No, you don't," the man said gruffly and Kurt felt the pair of hands circle his ankles and pull him across the bed. Kurt whimpered at how easily the man was able to move him around as he pleased.  
  
"Just fuck me already." The man merely chuckled far more teasing than the laugh he gave Kurt earlier.  
  
"Where are your condoms. And lube?"  
  
"The drawer. Right next to you," Kurt muttered weakly. He resisted stroking himself as the man ruffled through the drawer until he found the strip of condoms towards the back and tore one off.  
  
"Hurry," Kurt said as he heard the drawer shut.  
  
"You sure about that?" He heard the quiet snap of the lube bottle being flicked open. "You sure you don't want me to," a pause and then Kurt gasped at the sensation of the cool liquid dribbling between his ass cheeks, "take my time?" Kurt keened as he slowly felt two thick fingers slid easily into his ass.  
  
"Oh, God..."

  
"You like that, don't you sweetheart?" Kurt nodded into the mattress as the man's other hand covered his cock, stroking him so languidly that wanted to scream.  
  
"More," Kurt rasped. The man tutted.  
  
"You sure you're ready?" Kurt felt the fingers slip out and he hoped that this meant that the next thing that would be entering him would be much larger. He was severely disappointed when the same fingers impaled him once more, only they were covered with even more lube. "The last thing I want is to hurt you when I finally fuck you with my big dick."  
  
"No, please. I'm ready for it,” Kurt begged and he felt the elation grow in his chest as he heard the distinct sound of the condom wrapper being torn open.  
  
"I guess we'll just have to see about that. Turn around." He couldn't flip over onto his back fast enough.  
  
Once he was on his back, he saw the man in black standing over him having pulled out his thick cock, already hard from all the fun he was having. It was shiny from the condom and being already slick with lube. As saliva filled his mouth at the sight, he desperately wished for an opportunity to suck the man off. If not tonight, than some other night.  
  
If there was another night.  
  
Wordlessly, the man brought Kurt’s legs up to his shoulders and Kurt held them in place. It was almost as if the man knew how flexible he was and that he had him in this position so he could watch as he lined his cock up with his entrance and pushed in.  
  
Kurt would have felt victorious at the fact that he had been right when he said that he was more than ready, that is, if it wasn't for the exquisite cock that was being crammed into his ass. He sighed satedly as he stroked himself, his thumb circling the head of his own cock as the man slowly started to saw his way in and out of him, the man accommodating him by holding his other leg in place  
  
"Fuck, yes," the man hissed as he gradually picked up speed. The urgent gasps spilling from Kurt's mouth urged him on. The man pulled out though only to flip Kurt onto his stomach before entering him once more.  
  
The man's strong hands gripped his shoulders as he found a new momentum of pulling Kurt, on his hands and knees, to him with every thrust he made. Kurt hung his head as he screwed his eyes shut, feeling the most intense heat growing in the pit of his stomach. He was almost frightened by the warbling wail that he heard and was even more shocked when he realized it was being ripped from his own throat with every push and pull of their bodies. He felt entirely and frightfully significant in this world that was seemingly and rapidly closing in on them and them only, and that's when, with a grunt from the man behind him he could feel as though every axon of every nerve fiber in his body were exploding like stars and sending signals of pleasure throughout his body. Like the supernovae that exploded upon the blackness of his eyelids as he spilled out onto his new bed sheets below him.

Kurt could feel his breathing begin to slow as he opened his eyes blearily. He wasn’t expecting how profound the absence of his man in black was going to be until after he felt his flaccid cock slip out of him—until he could not feel him at all. He tried to move his limbs as he heard the quiet rustling of the man undoubtedly throwing the condom in the waste basket, but all he could manage was a soft and sated moan as he felt his eyes begin to droop once more.

And then he felt like he was floating.

He wouldn’t remember the strong arms picking him up and laying him back down so that his head was cradled by the soft pillow, or the warm comforter being pulled over his naked body.

He wouldn’t even be able to recall the gentle press of the lips upon his temple as he fell into a fitful sleep.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

When Kurt woke up the next morning, it was to find the bright rays of early morning sunshine beating down on his face. He groaned as he draped an arm over his eyes as he squinted them shut once more. As he lay there in the stillness of the morning, he attempted to recall how he ended up in his own bed when the last thing he could remember was setting up decorations at Rachel's party.  
  
He burrowed petulantly underneath the covers when he was still able to see the harsh light of the sun as it burned red through his closed eyelids. He curled in upon himself, trying to pretend that he wasn't an adult who had responsibilities, but someone who could stay naked in bed all day if they very well pleased. And that's when he realized somehow, in his semi-conscious state, that he was, in fact, naked.  
  
Kurt groaned, sitting up in bed, but not daring to open his eyes. He attempted to develop some inordinate amount of awareness in regards to his own body. He knew he couldn't have had that much to drink the night before, as he wasn't suffering from any migraines. In fact, why he had no interest in getting out of bed at all was due, in part, to the fact that he couldn't recall a time where he felt this blissful. His current state of undress, however, had to be left to ponder later as he knew that he had to get to work. Even if he was the owner of the company and in charge of himself, he hated to make his assistants and clients wait on him.  
  
Kurt crawled out of bed before stretching his limbs lazily. He stumbled blindly to his dresser, opened the top drawer, and grabbed the first pair of briefs his hand grazed, and then slipped them on.  
  
Next, with eyes finally opening and gradually getting used to the glaring sun, he padded to his bathroom, to brush his teeth. Instead of brushing his teeth at the sink, he took it with him, leisurely cleaning his teeth as he walked out into his living room to retrieve his phone to check his messages.  
  
And that's when he was met with a sight that not only refreshed his memory, but almost made him inhale his toothbrush.  
  
Kurt turned on the spot, rushing back into the bathroom only to drop his toothbrush back in its holder and spit the glob of toothpaste into the sink.  
  
As he tiptoed back into the living room, he kept his eyes on the massive figure strewn out on the couch. The man's chest was rising and falling with every respiration and expiration. He reminded Kurt of a bear that had gone into hibernation.  
  
 _'What the hell was he still doing here?'_  he wondered as he crept towards the sleeping man. Now he could remember nearly everything that happened. And he was glad for that too: It had been the best sex of his life. But he anticipated the man to have been in and out after they both had their fun.  
  
Kurt looked upon the sleeping man in confusion once he was standing right above him. Something prevented him from leaving last night, only Kurt didn't know what. If he was planning on staying, he would have just slept his bed. But this man must have planned on leaving only crash on the couch instead.  
  
Kurt knelt down, feeling guilty about having to wake the man, but still curious as to whom this man could be. Just as he was about to reach out and give the man a little shake, he saw something that made his heart skip a beat and almost had him falling back on his heels. Something he hadn't noticed the night before—the presence of a minuscule, but distinguishing beauty mark just below the mask that still covered the man's head.  
  
Kurt stood up so fast that he became dizzy. He took a step back as he covered his mouth with his hand not only to muffle the sob that threatened to escape his lips, but the name that he threatened to say as well.  
  
David...  
  
Kurt knelt down once more just to make sure. And he could see it now. The thin lips, the full jaw, broad all over. He felt so stupid.  
  
It had been David all along.  
  
David...  
  
It was as though he hadn't quite understood how profound a realization this was.  
  
He had sex with Dave.  
  
Kurt tried to think back on the night before, replaying the events in his mind, and he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at his sheer inability to put two and two together. It all made sense. Why Dave told Finn that he wouldn't be going to the party, why he seemed so familiar—had been so gentle. As least until he fucked him within an inch of his life. But even despite the amazing pounding, he still was careful that he was well-enough prepared so that he wouldn't hurt him. Everything seemed to fall into place. Dave never planned on him learning that it was him. He was planning on sneaking out after indulging him in one of his fantasies, and never talking about it again.  
  
Kurt inhaled sharply as his eyes went wide in epiphany.  
  
Dave loved him.  
  
A tear slipped from his eye as he thought of all the trouble Dave went through to make him feel good about himself—the fact that he was planning, all along, to let him go. What hurt most of all were the obvious similarities between the situation they were in now and the one involving Valentine's during their senior year of high school. Despite how horribly Kurt had rejected him the first time, he was still willing to suffer a world of heartache in order to make him happy.  
  
After all these years, Dave still loved him.  
  
"You stupid man," Kurt whispered, this time referring to Dave's stupidity rather than his own and with mock anger as he wiped his face. What was he doing having feelings for him...  _Again._ He could do so much better than somebody who couldn't see a good, though not perfect, person who had made some mistakes  but was learning from them, compared to somebody like Blaine, who he had been dating at that time, who was more concerned with stealing the spotlight and putting his own needs above all else.  
  
But the way he didn't think he deserved Dave didn't change the feelings he had for the man.  
  
He wanted to wake Dave up. He needed to know, needed to hear it for himself, whether it was true. He reached a hand out to touch his chest only to pause.  
  
No...  
  
He had a better idea.  
  
Kurt stood up once more only to carefully lift one leg and step down on his mint green couch on Dave's other side, lowering himself so that he gently straddled the man wearing nothing but a tiny pair of briefs.  
  
The man didn't budge and Kurt couldn't help but smile.  
  
Kurt slid his hands up the silky, black material covering his chest until their faces were just inches away from each other. His breathing was far more erratic than Dave's as he was unaware of what was going on.  
  
Tentatively, Kurt let his fingertips trail through the dark stubble upon his cheek in fascination, and then tracing faint lines that stretched from nose to mouth. The man mumbled something under his breath and Kurt knew he would be waking up soon. So Kurt let his lips just barely graze the rough cheek as his fingers worked the mask over his head. He followed the action by leaving tiny, barely-there kisses upon the man's cheek. He'd move the mask up—a peck on the nose. A little more—he brushed his lips against his closed eyelids. Kurt could feel them fluttering under his touch. As he let the mask slip from his fingers, unneeded, and drop to the floor,  he splayed his hands on either side of his head and tenderly kissed the Dave's forehead, only to find it creased rather than smooth and relaxed as it was before. He felt a heavy hand rest upon his thigh as his own heart starting pounding erratically with excitement in his chest, and then, as he sat up he watched as Dave sleepily brought a hand to his eyes, and realized that the mask was completely gone.  
  
The reaction was instantaneous. The same time that Dave must have realized that the cat (or should he say bat?) was out of the bag and that the risk of revealing his identity was at stake was when he simultaneously realized that Kurt was already sitting on top of him quite aware of who he really was.  
  
 _"Fuck"_  was the first thing that came out of Dave's mouth. Kurt had expected to see some amount of surprise on Dave's face. After all, he  _was_  straddling him.  
  
As Dave tried to sit up, clearly trying to scoot as far away as possible as if he was expecting a fist to the face, his expression clearly indicated that he was in deep shit. But more than anything, he looked sad. Sad that... What? He was afraid he would be angry at him? That he would never want to talk to him again.  
  
"Kurt, I... I'm so sorry." Dave seemed to be looking around for his mask, like he could put it on and undo Kurt ever having seen his face. "Please. Please don't be mad. I never... I never meant for you to..."

  
"To what?" Kurt conjectured. He couldn't help but be somewhat upset. "To find out that it was you all along? Is that what you were planning on doing? Sneaking out so I would spend the rest of my life wondering if something else could have come of this? Why didn't you leave, David? Why are you still here then?"  
  
The man swallowed thickly before answering in a quiet voice, “If I left I would have had to leave your door unlocked. I couldn't just... Take your key because you would have found out it was me anyway. But I also couldn't just leave you here while you were sleeping with your door unlocked." When he finished it was clear that he was ashamed of himself. Kurt had to resist reaching out to comfort him and tell him it was alright. At least, not yet.  
  
"But why did you want to leave?" Kurt asked, still hurt.  
  
"Because this wasn't about what I wanted," Dave said, looking at Kurt like it was the simplest thing in the world. "I just wanted to do something for you. You were so broken up the other day. I hated seeing you like that. I knew it was a bad idea, which was why I was planning on leaving this morning. I didn’t want you to think I used my friendship to take advantage of you. Though, I can imagine that’s exactly what it looks like, right now.”  
  
"Would you have wanted to stay?" Kurt was having trouble controlling his emotions. His nose stung and his eyes burned and he cursed Dave for being so damn stubborn. Dave clenched his jaw, and looked away, and Kurt knew that he wasn't going to be given a straight answer.  
  
"Dammit, David," Kurt cursed as he wound his hands into the fabric of the cape at the base of Dave's shoulders before smashing his lips to his.  
  
Kurt felt Dave tense as he kissed his roughly—kissed him in a way that he knew could not create any uncertainty as to what his feelings for Dave were. Who his heart belonged to.  
  
Kurt felt the hand return to his thigh, squeezing tentatively as he relinquished the grip on Dave’s outfit to slide them upward, tangling his fingers in Dave’s hair. He poured everything he had into this kiss. It wasn't anything like their first two kisses or the one he had with the ‘masked man’. This was about how far the two had come, both separately and together, about the gratitude he felt for having Dave in his life, and for always being there for him. This kiss was about two people overcoming the odds, discovering hope when all was lost, and learning to forgive the ones who tried so hard to change their ways.

Hell, they’ve even beaten death.  
  
It was about how love would always win—overcome any obstacle—in the end.  
  
Dave sat up as straighter against the arm of the couch and Kurt cradled the back his head with one hand while his other wrapped around his shoulder. He pulled away, though, gasping as Dave's hand slid up his naked spine kneading the back of his neck as the other kept him steady by wrapping around his waist. He could feel the noticeable hardness of Dave’s cock through the thin material of his pants, as Kurt’s pressed against Dave’s stomach. Kurt pressed his face into the crook of his neck as he spoke to him.  
  
"I would have wanted you to stay," he whispered as his hand stroked the back of Dave's head. Dave's hand, which was gliding up and down the naked flesh of his back, stilled.  "I love you, David. I need you to know that,” he rasped. "I love you so much."  
  
"Kurt..." Dave started to say and Kurt could hear it—the disbelief. Kurt pulled away, not wanting to hear another word.  
  
"No, David. Just listen to me, please." Kurt took Dave's face in his hands the same way Dave had with him the night before.

"You've run out of excuses,” he said to Dave, giving him a watery smile. “I know you think this would never work, or that I don't have feelings for you, or that, I don’t know, you still don't think you deserve to be happy after what happened in high school, but I'm going to tell you… All of those things are wrong.” He let the backs of his fingers stroke Dave’s cheek.

“We would be so great together, David, because we've been through so much together already.” He dropped his hands to his shoulders, giving him a small, frustrated shake. “I've cared about you for so long and have loved you far longer than I care to admit only because I'd hate to think of how much time I spent on guys who were totally wrong for me when I could have been with you. The only difference between how I loved you during our senior year of high school, our senior year of college, and now was how I thought I  _could_  love you, to  _wanting_ to love you, and finally accepting that I didn't need a reason  _to_  love you. And now that I know I have enough proof that you still have feelings for me, there’s no way I can let you go. After all, this wouldn't be the first time you dressed up in some ridiculous costume in an attempt to make me happy."  
  
When Kurt finished, Dave stared into his face in awe. Despite the raw emotion in his, he gave Kurt a small smile.

“I thought you liked the Batman costume?” he asked softly, his palm wandering down Kurt’s arm.

“I do. But why would I want you to dress up as a hero when you already  _are_  mine?” he trailed a finger down the Batman decal on his chest, a small smile playing on his lips. Dave stopped Kurt’s hand with his own.  
  
"I love you, Kurt," he said simply, as he intertwined their fingers together. Kurt's bottom lip trembled and Dave reached out with his other hand, swallowing thickly as he ran his padded thumb over it. "I love you more than anything and nothing is going to change that, but..." Kurt gave him a pained look that clearly conveyed  _“please, no more_ ‘ _buts_ ’”, "do you really think this is best after what just happened with Ian?"

Kurt tilted his head as he looked at Dave fondly. "I don't care about Ian, David. I know I seemed like I did, but I was just so tired of feeling like I wasn’t good enough, and, thanks to you, you showed me that I am. And now I can’t imagine not being with you.”

He gave Dave a mischievous smile as he wiggled back to sit on Dave’s thighs and then he said as he slid his hands down Dave’s waist, “Do you remember what Alfred said to Bruce in  _Begins?_ ” Kurt let his hands slip down so they lay on top of Dave’s lap. After Dave shook his head (though Kurt was sure he was too distracted to think hard enough), Kurt leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Why do we fall,  _Sir_?” he asked Dave in a thick, sultry tone as his tongue darted out to lick the shell of Dave’s ear. He felt Dave’s cock twitch under his hand as Dave let out a soft groan.

“So we might learn to…” his lips traveled down Dave’s neck as he answered for him, “pick ourselves back…” he slipped his hands into Dave’s pants to glide his hand over Dave’s hardening cock, “ _up_.” He wrapped his fingers around its girth, thumbing the head as he brushed his lips against Dave’s, his growl reverberating against his lips.

“Fuck,” Dave muttered under his breath as he tried to raise his hips towards Kurt’s insistent hand. The fact that he was sitting on his legs made it impossible. “You… Quoting Alfred shouldn’t, ugh…” he grunted. “Turn me on this much.” Kurt bit his lip to contain his laughter before he sobered up.

“Last night was amazing, David,” he said, still working his hand around the man’s length. “But I can think of one thing that would make it better.”

“Yeah…” Dave mumbled, his hands wandering past the waistband of Kurt’s briefs towards his ass. “Oh, fuck… What’s that?”

“If you take this ridiculous thing off. Seriously,” he laughed. “It needs to go.”

“Okay, okay!” Dave chuckled, looking at him through half-lidded eyes as he pulled the top part off. He let Kurt pull off the bottoms after slipping his hands out of his pants.

“Should’ve come to me,” Kurt muttered disdainfully, kicking the bottoms away. He realized Dave had taken the boots off the night before and was now just removing his socks. “This is a travesty on costume design. Besides… This,” once he dropped down onto his knees he trailed his fingers through the silky hair on Dave’s chest. Is  _so_  much better. Believe me.” Dave took his words to heart when he was able to see the genuinely fascinated look in his eyes as he began to memorize every dip and divot in his body, the terrain of hair upon his arms and chest.

Dave ran his fingers through Kurt’s hair once Kurt dropped down onto his knees in front of him. He licked his lips as he pulled the waistband of his boxers down.

“And to think I almost missed out on this,” Kurt said silkily and he wrapped a hand around Dave’s cock—hard and flush against his stomach—and giving him a smile, before he lowered his mouth onto it.

 

* * *

Dave groaned, his head pressing back into the couch cushions as Kurt made his best attempt at swallowing him down. He still had trouble believing this was happening, from Kurt’s confession to now, as he was about to go down on him.

Kurt’s plump lips strained around his girth, as well as his fingers which couldn’t meet with his thumb as he wrapped his hand around the base. His tongue, however—both skilled and relentless—made up for it. He swirled it around the head, flicking the slit with the pointed tip and moaning all the while, sending vibrations straight down to his balls. When Kurt came back up, gasping and wiping at the string of spit that hung from chin, he smiled at Dave, rather pleased with himself. Kurt made to stroke him to compensate for the inability to get the vast majority of his solid length into his mouth. Not that Dave could complain. The way Kurt wrapped two hands around his cock, massaging his shaft, and looked so indecent sitting before him, his hair a mess, was sinful.

“You know…” Kurt spoke up and in a soft, reflective tone. “Last night was kind of amazing. It was everything that I could have imagined and it was about ten times better because it was with you.”

“Kurt…” he was taken aback by this compliment. As he opened his eyes, he could tell by the look on Kurt’s face that he meant it. “Bedroom?” Kurt nodded once before letting go of him and he stood, his cock jutting out before him. Kurt wrapped his hand around it pulling him gently behind him with a smirk as they made their way to the bedroom. Dave noticed the damp spot on Kurt’s gray boxers from Kurt’s precum. Dave reached out and lazily pulled them down. Kurt sighed as his cock sprang free and Dave wrapped his hand around it. He stroked Kurt as he leaned over and pulled Kurt’s drawer open once more, retrieving the lube and a condom.

“May I?” Dave held up the lube.

“Like you have to ask?” Kurt rolled his eyes causing his lips to twitch. Dave guided Kurt to the bed so that he was lying with his head back against the pillows and Kurt was on top of him once more. As Kurt leaned over him, he wound his arms around his neck and kissed him softly, his tongue slipping into his mouth. Dave blindly trickled the lube onto his fingers behind Kurt’s back as Kurt unhurriedly rutted his dick against his stomach. Once again, with his fingers slick with lube, Dave held Kurt against him as he slipped his fingers between Kurt’s ass cheeks from behind. Kurt moaned as Dave buried the three fingers into his asshole, alternating between curling them and rotating them like a drill. Kurt pressed against them, his hips rocking as he rode Dave’s fingers, stretching himself open. Soon, though, Dave had slipped his fingers out in order to roll on the condom and Kurt was already guiding his cock into his ass.

“Ohh,” Kurt sighed as he sat on Dave’s cock. His eyes were closed and his neck exposed as when he threw it back as he adjusted to the size.

“God, Kurt…” Dave groaned as his hands traveled over Kurt’s narrow waist before cupping his ass cheeks. “You feel so fucking  _good_ , sweetheart.”

Kurt, being spurred on by the encouragement, began to pull off of Dave’s dick before sitting back down. He whimpered.

“Fuck, Kurt. Keep doing that,” he said as Kurt fell forward over him, his arms on either side of Dave’s head as he gripped the metal bars of the headboard.

“You’re so big, David. I… Fuck, touch me,” Kurt gasped his mouth hanging open as Dave reach his hand between them and began jerking him off frantically, the sounds he drew from Kurt going straight to his dick.

“Come here, baby,” Dave hissed in pleasure as he wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist, turning them over. Their bodies were pressed so close that Dave could feel Kurt’s heart beat at various points from the pulse in his neck where his lips were attached, to his chest where his heart beat wildly against his, to the wrists behind his neck where he reached back to hold tighter on to him. Dave fucked Kurt’s pinned body, plunging into him until Kurt’s face and chest were an angry red and hard enough that his come was spilling out onto his stomach from the mere friction of their bodies. With one last thrust so that his cock was buried in Kurt to his balls, he felt a pleasant burn as he felt himself spilling into the condom.

Dave turned away from Kurt, pulling out as he collapsed beside him, spent. Their sounds were only interrupted by the beeps of the cars in traffic beyond the window. He felt surprised. Like he had forgotten that they weren’t the only two people on the planet.

“Hi,” Kurt mumbled, sated, as he opened his eyes and looked up at Dave through his eyelashes.

“Hey.” Dave covered Kurt’s hip with his hand, dragging him closer.

“So what now?” Kurt asked. Dave studied his face.

“I guess we go back to the same routine,” he said, and there was evident worry in Kurt’s eyes. Dave smiled though, “movie marathons, friends’ parties,  _work_ …” They shared a look, both knowing that it was almost 9:30 a.m. on a Monday and not caring to do anything about the fact that they were both late to their respective jobs. Dave continued, “Only now if we feel like boning each other while watching a movie or sneaking away from our friends at a party to have some fun, we won’t have to be so embarrassingly awkward about it.” Dave licked his lips as he watched Kurt’s beautiful reaction. His face scrunched up in a laugh, looking brighter and more dazzling than the sun coming through the windows and warming their skin.

“Here I thought you were going to give me a reason why we couldn’t be together.”

“No,” Dave said, pulling Kurt into a kiss by the nape of his neck. “Although…” he pulled back, “you should know… a guy like me is always going to have his enemies.” Kurt slapped his arm softly, and he laughed. 

"If you're referring to my  _father_ , I'll deal with him.” Kurt rolled his eyes before continuing. “A movie sounds nice, though. I think I’m going to call in sick. Give the girls a day off.” He eyed Dave hopefully.

“You’re lucky I have vacation time saved up,” he nudged Kurt’s foot with his toe.

“I should just leave my movies at your place. Make it easy for the both of us.” Kurt said, standing up and going towards the bathroom in order to clean himself up. Dave sat up, removing the condom to throw away as he listened to Kurt’s voice from the other room as he turned on the faucet.

He could get use to this quickly, Dave realized—the  _domesticity._  Although he knew Kurt was only joking, he would have been perfectly fine with this notion. The thought of Kurt’s belongings at his place. Them living together. Kurt clothes and shoes, movies and music intermingling with his. Them brushing their teeth together at the same sink. A day where he and Kurt lived together… woke up together, like this, everyday. It was something to look forward to.

He smiled, watching as Kurt fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror.

He had a lot to look forward to.

 


End file.
